


Five Minute Breather

by Titania_Fleuret, WhatIsAir



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Crack, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Drug-Induced Sex, M/M, Oppa Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Vibrators, dom!Jae sub!Dae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 18:32:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3820564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titania_Fleuret/pseuds/Titania_Fleuret, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatIsAir/pseuds/WhatIsAir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh - ahh - Jae - /fuck/ - JAE JAEEEEEEEE-” Daehyun shouts, biting hard into Youngjae’s shoulder to muffle the whines tumbling out of his mouth. Youngjae smirks and pounds. Harder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless smut all the way through. Blame whatisair.

“What do you think you’re doing,” Yongguk says flatly, and Youngjae jumps, startled. The shot he’s pouring somehow ends up all over the polished table top. He hastily swipes a washcloth over it, hoping his manager hasn’t noticed.

“I was just - um,” he mumbles, and Yongguk doesn’t miss the way his eyes are straying elsewhere at a certain brunette with and teeth gleaming pearly white, hips swaying seductively as he purrs and flashes a flirtatious smile at his customer. Youngjae growls, an animalistic sound at the back of his throat, as Daehyun is moved closer to the client’s lap, until he is near straddling him, practically grinding himself down against the stranger’s cock as he swivels his hips in time to the heavy bass thump of the music blaring from the club’s speakers.

Youngjae coughs and presses the front of his pants discreetly against the counter, desperate for friction.

Yongguk sighs, almost wearily at the antics of the dark haired bartender. “You know,” he says in his gravelly tone, “If you really want him that much, maybe you should do something about it. In the meantime,” he pauses, gesturing at the tent in Youngjae’s trousers, “You might want to take a five minute breather for that.” Youngjae flushes and hurries to the bathroom.

Damn that stupid Daehyun and his stupid leather pants! He groans as he releases his load, imagining that it was the brunette’s skilful tongue wrapped around his cock. Hastily, he disposes of the paper towels and wash his hands, grimacing as he sees the white, tell-tale mark on his dark trousers.

“Hey,” Daehyun says, flashing him a quick smile as he slides onto a stool, plopping down right in front of Youngjae. He’s out of breath from the dance, and Youngjae can’t quite tear his eyes away from the droplets of sweat tracing their way down the column of his throat and into his shirt. “My usual, please.”

“Sure,” Youngjae grins, and, turning, reaches down under the counter for the little vial Himchan hyung had slipped him a couple weeks back, with a wink and a clap on his shoulder.

 

He struggles to contain the mixture of excitement and guilt brewing in his chest. After all, Himchan did say that the effects are entirely pleasurable with no lasting effects. So, it should be fine, shouldn’t it?

 

“Cheers,” Daehyun down the glass within one go, relishing the tangy aftertaste of alcohol. Youngjae’s heart skips a beat when he notices a slight frown on the dancer’s face, but if he had noticed anything, Daehyun speaks nothing of it, and Youngjae sighs a sigh of relief as Daehyun hoots and bounces back to the dancefloor, familiarising himself with new clients and chatting animatedly with them. _Soon_ , thinks Youngjae, feeling an odd sense of accomplishment at his newfound power, _You’ll come crawling to me, begging like the little slut you are._

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now for the smut that we've all been waiting for.....

The world around him is spinning, the loud music fading to a throbbing pulse in the background, and Daehyun frowns, because he’s pretty sure the lights weren’t varying shades of green-blue-red the last time he checked. He feels light-headed, and is suddenly glad he hadn’t bothered with dinner today, because he doesn’t think he has it in him to keep everything down. He wobbles amidst the throng of people pressed against each other on the crowded dance floor, and before he knows it he’s rammed into someone’s back, hard.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. Or, well, tries to, anyway. The word slurs its way out of his mouth, and he hears a high-pitched giggle. It takes him perhaps a second too long to realize the giggle’s coming from him. He quickly snaps his mouth shut. God, this is embarrassing.

“You okay there?” a hand reaches out to grab his. Daehyun gratefully accepts it and is about to thank him when the man continues, leering at Daehyun’s scantily clad figure, “Well, well, well. Look what we’ve got here.” Daehyun fights the mist fogging his thoughts and drowning him into incoherency and struggles to get away from the hand clenched around his slender wrist, suddenly a lot less helpful and a lot more intrusive.

“Don’t fight it baby,” lust filled eyes lock into his own, and Daehyun involuntarily shivers. He wants to get away, he needs to get away. Yet as the man pulls at his stockings and touches his chest through his flimsy shirt, he feels flames slowly starting in his veins.

Daehyun is, for some unknown reason, burning up and Oh, he feels so hot and he NEEDS…

This time round, Daehyun doesn’t push away Jongup’s wandering hands around his inner thighs. Instead, he arches into his touch and lets out a loud, keening voice.

Somebody….please… Daehyun’s mind is a state of internal turmoil as he struggles to keep his vision focused. But the heat is unrelentless and he moans again, hating the crude, vince-like hold the man has over his torso but helpless against the warmth of the touch. And his body is so hot, so wet and he whimpers out a single name...

Youngjae

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Daehyun hears, as if from afar, and the next thing he knows there’s a warm solid weight against his back and then Youngjae’s there. He’s got an arm looped around Daehyun’s waist to support him and his other hand is shoving unceremoniously at Jongup’s chest, shoving him roughly off Daehyun.

“I was just having some fun,” Jongup protests, raking his eyes unashamedly down the length of Daehyun’s body before licking his lips. “Dressed like that - he was fuckin’ asking for it.” He pauses, considering. “We could share, if you like. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, the cockslut.” He finishes by reaching around and slapping Daehyun’s ass.

Daehyun squeaks and digs his fingers into Youngjae’s chest, a dark blush coating the sharp jut of his cheekbones, lashes forming dark smudges against his eyelids. He looks absolutely delectable like this, Youngjae thinks, affection for the boy in his arms curling, warm and soothing like whiskey down his throat.

“My hero,” Daehyun mumbles, voice muffled against Youngjae’s bicep as he leans heavily against the bartender, “‘m gonna -” he pause to hiccup (Youngjae refuses to find that cute), “- gonna ride with you into the sunset, Jae.”

“Right,” Youngjae says, barely refraining from laughing as he glances down at Daehyun, and the latter looks completely out of it, tongue lolling and eyes watering. Tentatively, he touches the elder’s forehead. He’s burning, Youngjae realises, and the resulting mewl he gets from the single touch sends tingles throughout his body. He meets Jongup’s eyes and snarls. “Fuck off.” he orders, his eyes dangerous and bloodthirsty. Fortunately for Jongup, his eyes widen and he seems to get the message. Risking another pat on Daehyun’s trembling shoulder, Jongup turns and disappears back into the crowd of writhing bodies.

Glaring at the distance, Youngjae barely registers the stirring in his arms as Daehyun shifts himself, like a kitten. It is only until he lets out a low moan “ohhhhh….Youngjae….” that he draws attention back to the matter at hand.

Youngjae staggers back to the bar with Daehyun’s arm draped over his shoulders. Yongguk stops mixing drinks long enough to arch an unimpressed brow when Youngjae gazes at him imploringly. “He’s your mess to clean up, Youngjae. I’m not doing shit.”

So Youngjae groans and resigns himself to dragging a delirious, half-out-of-his-mind Daehyun through the maze of tables and chairs and booths, past the bathrooms, and up the stairs. Twice Daehyun stumbles and nearly drags Youngjae down with him, and they have to stop on practically every floor so Youngjae can pry Daehyun’s hand away from where it keeps snaking down to palm at his growing erection.

“Dae, stop it -” Youngjae hisses, clenching his eyes shut against a fresh wave of arousal, “Jesus, Dae, if you don’t stop right now I’m gonna -”

Daehyun giggles, breathless, his other hand coming up to grab a fistful of Youngjae’s shirt, pulling until Youngjae bends and Daehyun’s lips are against his ear. “Your hair -” he tells Youngjae conspiratorially, “- is made of silk. And it smells like flowers.”

“Okay,” Youngjae says, sighing, finally managing to extricate Daehyun’s wandering hand from his crotch. They’re almost to the top, now, and the club’s music has faded to a distant hum. The stairs creak behind him and Youngjae turns, smiling in relief when he sees Yongguk hyung. His manager isn’t completely heartless; he hasn’t abandoned him to his fate after all.  

“Hyung, gimme a hand?” Youngjae asks when they reach the landing. He’s panting with the effort of having hauled Daehyun’s (pert - but that’s beside the point) ass up the four flights of stairs to where the VIP backrooms are.

Yongguk produces keys from his back pocket, and unlocks the innermost one. “Stay there, be as loud as you want, but I want my best dancer to be in actual condition to perform tomorrow, so skip the double penetration and all that shit, alright kid?”

Youngjae’s ears become so hot that he could feel smoke coming out of them. Yongguk chuckles, shutting the door behind him on his way out, but Youngjae’s too distracted to notice because Daehyun’s breathing into Youngjae’s ear, his voice husky and his scent mingled with sex and need. “Please, Youngjae,” Daehyun all but crumbles into Youngjae’s embrace, trying desperately to grind on his trousers, to get his cock the attention and friction it needs. Another wave of heat engulfs Daehyun, and he gives a broken, wanton cry again, because he needs it so bad it hurts and he needs someone to give it to him and ram it in him and oh, Youngjae smells absolutely divine….

“Youngjae, Jae, JAE!” Youngjae is so turned on it’s hardly funny any more, his eyes enraptured by the wild beauty, sprawled out and just waiting to be ravished, by him. Daehyun’s sprawled inelegantly on the room’s double bed, legs splayed wide as he leans back on his elbows, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. The skintight leather clinging to his thighs leaves very little to the imagination, and as Youngjae watches, Daehyun slowly drags a hand over the top of his own thigh, a groan escaping his lips when his fingers brush his straining member, his head falling back, exposing the column of his throat as he grinds the heel of his hand against his cock in an attempt to stave off his impending orgasm.

“Please,” he says, breath stuttering out in a gasp, “I want - _I want you_ , Jae.”

Youngjae’s never taken his clothes off faster than he does now. His shirt’s barely hit the floor before he’s scrambling onto the bed, crawling on all fours until he’s hovering over Daehyun, arms and legs bracketing the dancer’s slender frame. He dips his head and presses a light kiss to Daehyun’s neck, smirking against the tan skin when he feels Daehyun’s pulse speed up. Mouthing along his jawline, Youngjae stops to nip at Daehyun’s earlobe before sucking the skin between his teeth, chuckling when that sends a shiver down Daehyun’s body.

He makes his way back down Daehyun’s jaw, and stops to slot their mouths together when his lips brush Daehyun’s plush, pink ones. Daehyun tastes like chocolate and cigarette smoke and the shot he’d given him earlier, and Youngjae deepens the kiss, tongue slipping into Daehyun’s mouth, drunk on his taste. He pulls back when he feels a hand threading its fingers through his hair.

“Nuh-uh,” he says playfully, pulling back, catching Daehyun’s wrists and pinning them to the bed. He doesn’t miss the way Daehyun’s pupils dilate, the black swallowing the honey-brown of his irises, lips parting as he stares up at Youngjae. He grins wolfishly down at where he’s got Daehyun spread out for the taking on the bedspread. “No touching unless I say so.”

Daehyun keens, a low whine ripping from his throat as he visibly stills himself, fingers curling and flexing around thin air. He pouts, and when that garners no reaction from Youngjae, shifts so their hips align and the lengths of their cocks are pressed together, the fabric of their pants the only barrier separating them.

“Youngjae,” he groans, frustrated, when Youngjae teasingly pulls back, denying them both the friction they want.

 

“There, there now,” Youngjae croons, tickling the brunette's chin. He sticks four fingers into Daehyun’s awaiting mouth and the latter laps at it eagerly, sucking it whole and closing his eyes as he does so, lewd sounds of liquid accompanied by rash breathing and panting.

Daehyun’s eyes widen as a pair of hands skillfully unzip his leather shorts and frantically tries to do the same to Youngjae. “Jae…” His mewl is cut off by a solid slap to his bottom, echoing in the suite.

Youngjae looks at the powerless dancer, normally so feisty, entirely at his mercy, and smirks. “That would be oppa for you, little whore”, he purrs.

“Oppa _please_ …” Daehyun inhales sharply as Youngjae removes his fingers and replaces them with his lips instead. Tongues fight for dominance, and Youngjae roughly tangles his fingers in Daehyun’s tousled hair, urging him to get closer. His free hand, dripping with saliva, finds its way to his entrance, raw and puckered and dripping with slick. Not bothering with preparation, Youngjae rams the first two fingers in, finding Daehyun’s cries of protest horribly arousing. “Bitches like you should just be pleased with whatever you are given.” When Daehyun’s expressions of pain slowly morph into pleasure and he starts pushing back into Youngjae’s fingers, the younger adds another one, and then another one. He curves his fingers and starts thrusting in different directions, until a sharp cry pierces through the air and Daehyun is wailing. Youngjae smiles darkly. “Bingo.” As Daehyun’s prostate is abused again and again, he hardly notices Youngjae slipping in the fourth finger, scissoring in and out. Daehyun keens again, and he sees flashes of white and suddenly convulsions overwhelm him and he’s coming…..

“Not so fast,” Youngjae murmurs, his breath warming the outside of Daehyun’s ear. Daehyun thrashes in his threshold but Youngjae, unrelentless eyes raking across the elder’s body--continues to hold the base of his cock firmly. Daehyun whimpers at his denied release, angry veins protruding from the underside of his member. “What’s the fun in coming alone, Dae?”

Youngjae pulls out his digits, now coated with a fresh layer of slick and precum. He smells it appreciatively and pops one into his mouth. “Hmmm, Dae,” the said boy now little more than a crumbled, moaning mess. His mess, Youngjae thinks, with a possessive lilt in his eyes.

“Now, Dae,” Youngjae murmurs, authority evident despite his soft tone, “You’re going to be a good boy. When I count to three, you are going to climb onto Oppa’s lap, and you are going to sit on my cock. Do you understand?”

Daehyun’s breathing is erratic and he nods his head so frantically Youngjae is reminded of a little puppy, desperate to please and, in return, be pleased. “Yes,” Daehyun says faintly.

“Yes what?” Youngjae raises his voice. Daehyun flinches slightly, moaning as more blood travels to his hard on. “Yes, _oppa_.”

“One,” Youngjae starts in a deep baritone, raising an eyebrow in amusement when Daehyun scrambles quickly to obey, raising himself onto his knees so he’s kneeling in Youngjae’s lap.

“Two.” Daehyun moans lewdly as he seats himself onto firm thighs, the movement causing his cock to brush against the smooth expand of Youngjae’s skin.

“ _Three_ ,” Youngjae breathes, the sound punching out of him in a gasp when Daehyun takes his cock lightly in hand and guides himself down. “Fuck-” Youngjae says emphatically, as Daehyun shifts experimentally before suddenly sinking down in one smooth motion, taking Youngjae in to the hilt. “So tight, Dae.”

The sensation proves to be too much for Daehyun, who whimpers and buries his face into Youngjae’s shoulder. His hands scrabble for purchase down Youngjae’s back, before he finally settles on looping them around his neck.

Youngjae opens his eyes (he hadn’t realized he’d closed them), and is mesmerised by the sight of the brunette-- eyes half closed, slick dripping out of his bruised lips-- and the sight of his crotch being swallowed up by Daehyun’s puckered hole.

“Now be a good girl and move,” coos Youngjae, his fingertips barely grazing the dancer’s weeping head, oozing with precum.

Daehyun sucks in a quick breath, eyes heated and his pupils blown so wide they eclipse the honey-brown of his irises. His hips shift as he works himself down onto Youngjae’s cock, mouth parting when he grazes his prostate.

Youngjae meets his downward thrusts with his own powerful ones that propel the dancer upwards, leading him to bounce up and down his dick, shameless cries spilling from sinful lips and echoing with the vulgar sound of skin slapping skin.

“O - oppa,” Daehyun moans, powerless and unable to do anything but cling onto Youngjae’s broad shoulders as Youngjae fucks up into him, knees bent and feet planted firmly on the bed for leverage. “Please -” he all but sobs into the skin of Youngjae’s neck, “I need -”

“Beg for it, then,” Youngjae commands, a smirk tugging up the corners of his cheeks.

Daehyun bites his lip, cheeks flushing bright red as he looks at Youngjae from beneath his lashes. His eyeliner’s smudged and the smear of makeup marring his face makes him look younger, somehow. It is a look that Youngjae is rather partial to, and he purrs at just how submissive the elder is at the moment. Daehyun takes in a deep breath, and Youngjae assumes that he is preparing himself for the big moment of revelation.

“Oppaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa plzzzzzzzzzzzzz” Daehyun suddenly screeches in a soprano’s voice, complete with vibrations and--oh _god_ \--- is he attempting a crescendo?

The high pitched plea-- which Youngjae had been craving for the very first time he has set eyes on the brunet--has an opposite effect on his dick. Massaging his ears, Youngjae ceases his actions, suddenly not feeling in the mood anymore. Smiling rather sadly, he pulls out his limp dick from the still pulsing hole that he had been so enjoying up until now.

“Oppaaaaa? Where are you going Opppaaa?” No, Youngjae facepalms. You did NOT just reference Hyuna and that awful song.

Youngjae glares at the elder, eyes still dreamy and hands wandering on his sculpted chest. “Jung Daehyun. Stop. It. You’re scaring my boner away.”

“But I thought that you liked me calling you Oppaaaa,” Daehyun pouts and drags out his vowels deliberately.

Youngjae massages his temple with his free hand. He feels a headache coming on, and - “This is all your fault,” Youngjae says, jabbing a finger at Daehyun’s chest. He is met with a look of utmost innocence, and suddenly he has a strong urge to kick the elder.

He gives in to the urge and grins, relishing the yelp and  look of surprise on Daehyun’s face when he finds himself sprawled in a messy heap on the sheets.

“But _Jaeeeee_ \--”

Youngjae flings a vibrator at the direction of the bed without turning around. “Go play by yourself. I’m not in the mood anymore.”

Daehyun pouts at Youngjae’s retreating back, attempting to seduce him once more with his aegyo. Unfortunately his attempts are to avail, as Youngjae’s back still resolutely turned.

The dancer glowers sullenly at the pink vibrator, now resting next to his lap on the messy pile of sheets, and debates whether his pride is worth deserting in his desperation to be filled. After a few moments of hesitation, he decides that it is, and clenching his teeth, he slides down onto the vibrator in one smooth glide, his hole still loose from Youngjae’s penetration.

“Ahh--!!” A lustful moan bursts out from his mouth, and it takes every glorious inch of self preservation  in Youngjae not to turn around. Do not be fooled him, Jae, he chants, Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let him know!! As a last ditch attempt, the bartender turns to Disney songs to get rid of the temptation.

Daehyun doesn’t give up, however. If anything, his moans start getting louder and louder, crescendoing into a long wail.

Youngjae gives up, and looks at the glorious sight spread out before him between his fingers. The mixture of triumph and smugness that reflects on the elder’s face, however, leading him to press down, hard, on a certain button on a remote.

“ _Fuuuucck_ ,” Daehyun groans, back arching off the bed. Youngjae smirks, and alternates between the highest and lowest settings on the remote, leaving the dancer a pitiful wreck on the sodden bedsheets.

It takes a little under two minutes for the older to fall apart. An incoherent chord of words start spilling out of his lips, beyond his control. “Please - Jae - ahhh- _please_ , I need -”

“Fucking goddammit, Dae,” he snarls, and crosses the room in two long strides, filled with purpose. Not even bothering to pull out the still vibrating plastic, he pushes into Daehyun’s swelled entrance.

The stripper howls in ecstasy, his walls tightening around Youngjae’s throbbing member. “Oppa -” he gasps, eyes falling shut as Youngjae gives a particularly hard thrust, “ _Please_ \- I - I need -”

Youngjae slaps Daehyun on the thigh, hard, his hips never stilling for a second. “Need?” he growls, voice a rough timbre, “You don’t _need_ anything I’m not giving you, slut.”

A sob wrenches its way out of Daehyun’s chest when Youngjae pulls out, before slamming back in so hard Daehyun has to wrap his hands around the bars of the headboard to steady himself.

“Quiet, _whore_ ,” Youngjae snarls, a fiery glint in his eye as his hips snap back, “Or you’re not coming tonight.”

Daehyun lets go of the headboard and instead clamps his hand over his mouth in a desperate attempt not to make a sound. He’s not entirely successful, however; as muffled whines and whimpers continue to fall out.

“Tsk, tsk,” Youngjae tuts, stopping his actions and frowning in disapproval, “You’ve been very naughty, Daehyunnie. And you know what happens to naughty boys.” Ignoring the yelp of complaint by the elder, he smirks and lowers his voice until it’s barely audible, “Naughty boys get punished.”

Daehyun shivers, and he doesn’t know if it stems more from embarrassment or anticipation. His dick twitches on his belly, and more precum pools out from the tip.

Youngjae starts moving again, instead, this time, he deliberately misses the bundle of nerves that makes the older sees stars. “You have - terrible - aim, dongsaeng,” Daehyun grits out, impaling himself down onto Youngjae’s cock, chasing the friction he so desperately needs.

“That’s _oppa_ to you, boy,” Youngjae’s eyes narrow dangerously, his tone icy as he regards the man spread out beneath him, before proceeding to thrust forcefully. His anger gets the better of him, however, and he misjudges his direction, pummelling straight into Daehyun’s prostate.

The mistake proved itself to a fatal one, as less than a second later, he feels tight walls constrict and clench around his hardness, constricting it, and he looks up to see Daehyun with his eyes squeezed shut, and he knows that the elder is coming.

“Fuuckk-oh _fuck_ -” he groans, burrying his head into Youngjae’s shoulder. The pressure is too much for the younger, and he feels his balls tightening, want building in his lower regions. Before he knows it, he is pulling out and jerking himself off on Daehyun’s face, painting it with streaks of white. Daehyun’s mouth falls open and he catches some of the come on his tongue, before slumping back, boneless, onto the bed.

“Daehyun….? Dae….?”

A faint snoring is heard from the direction of the headboard, and Youngjae smiles softly to himself before climbing off the bed and switching off the remote.

“Sleep tight,” he whispers, dropping a light kiss onto Daehyun’s temple before wrapping himself around the elder, spooning him from behind.

***

Youngjae wakes up to horrified screaming coming from the doorway.

“Hyuuunggggg!!” A boy with candyfloss pink hair yells, eyes as wide as saucers. A second later, Yongguk appears behind him, clad in joggers and the top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, a pink clip adorning his hair.

For a moment, both sides stare at each other for what seemed like an eternity, until a moan from Daehyun draws their attention back to the stirring lump on the bed.

“I...I can’t feel my legs…” he complains, flailing an arm around in panic and hitting Youngjae in the stomach as he does so. Youngjae doubles over in pain. Yongguk gestures for Zelo to turn around and motions for him to keep his eyes closed, before crossing the room and helping the dancer onto his feets.

A plastic vibrator--drenched in suspicious white liquid-- falls onto the ground with a thud, and Yongguk’s face pales dramatically.

“I can explain this, Hyung,I…” stammers Youngjae, drawing the sheet around himself for some semblance of modesty.

“Himchan? Yeah, could I borrow Zelo for the night? One of my dancers is, um, going to be out of commision for a couple of days-- or weeks, even. “ Yongguk’s eyebrows raise quizzically at the overly eager reply he receives, and Youngjae could swear that he heard laughter ringing at the other side of the line.

***

The next day, Daehyun is back, dressed in his usual leather shorts and the tightest flimsy shirt Youngjae has ever seen in his life. Daehyun notices his stare, and he smirks, leaning across the counter and whispering next to the bartender’s ear.

“You didn’t have to do that to get me in bed with you, you know,” he purrs seductively, his voice sending shivers down Youngjae’s spine.

“Yongguk? I need a five minutes breather!” And with that, he drags the dancer into a bathroom stall, locking eyes with him and pinning him against the wall.

“Is now okay, then?”

 **  
**“Let’s do it again, but this time without the drugs, hm?” Daehyun murmurs into the shell of Youngjae’s ear, snaking a hand down to palm the bartender’s “five minute breather”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments and reviews! Criticism is very welcomed! :D and have a nice day dreaming about them two getting it on!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment (I love comments not ashamed to admit) have a nice day! :DDDDD


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